


Better than Ice Cream

by orphan_account



Series: Sweet Caroline (Do Do Dooo) [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Delicious Cannoli, Established Relationship, M/M, Mike's Pastry, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 10:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18849262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “What is cannoli?” Andrei asks from where he’s reclined on the bed, fiddling with his phone as he watches Dougie pack.“What?”“Cannoli,” he repeats, and his face pinches in concentration as he forms the word.





	Better than Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, and I make no profit for it.
> 
> This is part of the Sweet Caroline universe but can be read as a standalone. Set before Round 3 of the 2019 Stanley Cup Playoffs.
> 
> I wholeheartedly blame this article.

“What is cannoli?” Andrei asks from where he’s reclined on the bed, fiddling with his phone as he watches Dougie pack.

“What?”

“Cannoli,” he repeats, and his face pinches in concentration as he forms the word. “Maybe I say wrong. I just hear reporter ask about get in Boston, and you say yes.”

“Oh, no, you were saying it right. It’s cannoli.”

“What is?”

Folding one of a million playoffs shirts to shove in his suitcase, Dougie pauses. “It’s a hollow pastry, like it’s rolled in a tube,” he explains, spinning a finger in a circle, “and it’s filled with cream and usually has chocolate chips or something on the ends.”

Andrei’s brow furrows. “Is dessert?”

“Yeah, I…” Dougie pulls out his own phone. “Here,” he says, holding it out to show Andrei the photo he pulls up. “That’s cannoli.”

He makes an interested noise, and it doesn’t surprise Dougie, not with the sweet tooth he has for cookies and ice cream and anything else sugar-filled and delicious. “Can’t get cannoli here?” he asks curiously.

Dougie’s mouth turns down in thought, and he shrugs. “I’m sure you could, but I’ve never really looked for it.”

“Better in Boston?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know. It’s just…” he sighs. He hadn’t liked the reporters asking him about Boston and what he planned to do and who he wanted to see that morning, and he’s still a bit tense from those interviews, on his guard and wary, but this is Andrei. After his parents and brother, he’s probably the most important person in Dougie’s life. If there’s anyone who deserves an honest answer, it’s him.

“There’s a bakery in Boston,” he begins, “Mike’s Pastry. It’s real famous, and everyone goes there, all the visiting teams and all the Boston guys, and I went a lot when I was playing there. The food is amazing, but the place is family-owned, so there’s also this fun, close environment between all of the employees. I would stop in whenever I had time because it was just nice to be around that. Even though they could never replace my own family, it was still nice to feel like I had a place there.”

Andrei watches him as he speaks, eyes intense like they always are when he’s focused.

“Dori,” he continues, warming up to the subject, “she’s part of the family, just kind of took me under her wing. She’d always ask how my training was going and joke about making sure I ate enough. I think my mom liked knowing there was someone looking out for me, and it was nice to feel like I had family right there in Boston. It was definitely one of the reasons I wanted to stay.”

Andrei frowns a little at the words but nods, biting at his lip in thought. “Is…is bad if I say I’m happy you not stay?”

Setting aside the pair of shorts he’d been debating packing, Dougie sits next to Andrei and reaches out to thread their fingers together. “No, it’s not bad,” he murmurs. “I can’t say I was happy when the Bruins traded me, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Management had issues with me, and even though I felt like I had friends on the team and in the locker room, that wasn’t enough for them. It sucked in the moment, and it sucked when Calgary traded me last year, but I kind of think I got the better end of the deal,” he finishes, squeezing Andrei’s hand and leaning in for a kiss that goes on longer than it should.

He pulls away and ignores the way Andrei whines. “Gotta finish packing.”

“Packing can wait.”

Dougie laughs, throwing the shorts into his suitcase. “We have a flight in an hour and a half. If we want to be playing in Boston tomorrow, packing can’t wait.”

Andrei pushes out his lower lip, and it looks absurd with all the whiskers he’s trying his best to grow, but he doesn’t protest beyond that.

“We eat cannoli in Boston?” he asks a while later.

“Yeah, well, usually players from opposing teams are banned from the shop during playoffs, but Dori said I’m always welcome.”

“Oh.”

There’s a strange note to his voice, and when Dougie glances up at him, he’s staring at the bedspread, fingers plucking at a loose thread. He looks hurt, maybe, or upset, and Dougie reviews his words, trying to figure out what he might’ve said wrong.

“Hey _solntse_ ,” he says and wraps a hand around one of Andrei’s ankles where it’s resting near his suitcase. “You’re coming with me, too. You know that, right? There’s no way she won’t want to meet you.”

A bright grin bursts across Andrei’s face, chasing away the uncertainty. “Good,” he says, sounding relieved, “because cannoli look very good, and I want try.”

Dougie returns the grin, and they smile soppily at one another until Andrei nudges at his hip with his toes. “Finish packing, da? We leave soon, we get cannoli soon.”

Dougie chuckles. “Da, _konechno_.”

\----

“We can find a table in one of the conference rooms, I bet,” Marty says as they walk back from dinner. “Hotels like this have a million of them.”

“I’d be down,” Jordo says.

“Me too,” Willy adds, and everyone groans.

A few of the guys excuse themselves, making noise about getting to bed early or needing to call a significant other or not wanting to lose any more money to the captain, and Dougie takes advantage to add in that he won’t be joining the game either.

“What?” Marty says. “Come on, man. We need you to outsmart, Willy.”

“I don’t really think winning poker has anything to do with intelligence. It’s a lot of luck,” Dougie points out.

Marty groans and throws an arm around Dougie. “Fine, then you could just fool him with your big, innocent eyes. He’d never know what hit him. You’d be all ‘Oh, I really don’t have that great of cards. I’ll call, but I won’t raise.’ Then bam, full house, Willy loses.”

“Go away, Marty,” Andrei orders, faux stern as he prods him lightly until he releases Dougie. “We have plans.”

That gets a round of cheers and catcalls.

“Plans?” Faulker repeats, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys do remember we have a game tomorrow, right? Gotta be in peak condition for that.”

Dougie rolls his eyes in return and fights off the blush that wants to creep up his neck and cheeks. “There’s no evidence that sex the night before a game negatively affects your performance,” he tells them blandly, trying to be slightly mature about it, and he’s met with whoops and hollers. Someone even slaps him on the back.

Faulker stares. “Well, alright then.”

“No, stop be gross, Faulker,” Andrei says, waving him away. “And it not your business, but we have other plans.”

“Are you guys going out somewhere?” Slavs asks, genuinely curious, and Andrei latches onto the question.

“Yes, have place to visit together. Dougie live here three years, knows best place in Boston, so we go visit.”

“That’s romantic,” Fleury sighs, and that elicits another round of commentary from their teammates. Dougie groans internally.

“Yes,” Andrei agrees. “Very romantic, so you all need go inside and leave us alone. Not want you ruin special night with bad sex joke and nosy questions,” he says and waves them into the hotel lobby.

“Have fun!” Slavs calls, begging off the card game with an easy mention of his wife and new baby.

“Yeah, have fun, but don’t party too hard, eh?” Marty adds, smirking wide.

Andrei rolls his eyes. “Hope you lose to Willy.”

“Hey! Don’t be wishing that kind of bad luck on me. I don’t need any more bad juju.”

Foegs stops beside them. “You coming back to the room tonight?” and Andrei looks to Dougie.

It’s usually half-and-half on the road. Some nights, Andrei will stay in his own room to hang out with Foegs or he’ll be upset enough from a game that he just needs some space. Other nights, he’ll follow Dougie back to his room and crawl into his lap to suck slow kisses under his jaw, teeth sharp and biting.

It’s rare that Dougie turns him away. After a night of turnovers or botched shots, he’ll still welcome him with open arms; sleeping alone won’t change whatever happened on the ice, he reasons. And tonight, he’s feeling especially raw and exposed, back in his first NHL city with more eyes on him that he’d like, coming off of two series that no one expected them to win.

“Stay with me,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. “If you want, obviously.”

Andrei’s answering smile is soft and private, something just for Dougie. “Always want.”

Foegs gags. “Gross, gross, no, nope. I don’t need to see this, don’t need to hear it.”

“I thought you said you were okay with this?” Dougie retorts jokingly.

“I am, definitely, but that doesn’t mean I need to listen to you guys being all coupley together, and I definitely don’t need to see Svech look at you like that. Hard pass, man.”

Andrei flushes hotly and protests, “Look like what? I look normal. No difference.”

Brow furrowing in disbelief, Foegs snorts, reaching out to clap a hand to Andrei’s shoulders. “Whatever you say, Svech.”

“What you mean look like that?” Andrei continues as Foegs makes his way inside, turning to offer them a jaunty salute before disappearing into the lobby. Andrei turns to Dougie. “Look like what?”

“Like you’re totally in love with me,” Dougie answers easily, setting off toward the bakery, Andrei trailing a half-step behind.

“I not have face for that.”

“You definitely do.”

“No! Have normal face, is not different with you.”

Dougie wants to reach out and snag his hand, lace their fingers together as they walk, but he bites back the urge and shoves his hands in his pockets, knocking their shoulders together as consolation. “Yes, it is.”

“Is not!”

Laughing, Dougie eyes him. “You don’t see the faces you make.”

“Not make any face,” Andrei grumbles. “You make face.”

“Do I?” Dougie asks, though he knows he does. His parents had visited at the end of the season, and after dinner the first night, his mom had pulled him aside, eyes misty, and told him how she hadn’t been too sure when he’d first let them know he was dating his eighteen(nineteen now!)-year-old, rookie teammate, but after seeing them together, she’d realized how happy Andrei made him and how well they fit.

“Yes, make most faces. When I score good goal or beat guys at cards, you make face.”

“Yeah?”

“Or when I learn new word in English or say funny joke, you make face.”

Dougie doesn’t object.

With a cheeky smirk, Andrei continues, “When I do thing with my tongue you really like,” and Dougie chokes on a groan, “or when I speak Russian in bed, call you nice names.”

Dougie lifts a hand and presses it to Andrei’s nape, dragging him closer for a brief instant. “I don’t think you’re saying nice things to me when we’re in bed together.”

“Say most nice things,” Andrei counters in a low voice, eyes heated. “Tell you how good make me feel. Tell you how much I like.”

“Tell me how I need to be working harder. Tell me that I’m not too old to get it up again, even though you’re asking for it again five seconds after I pull out. Tell me exactly how to get you like you want.”

“You not complain,” Andrei points out, biting at his lip coyly, and Dougie chuckles.

“Never. I like when you talk.”

They walk closely through the streets, Dougie pointing out different landmarks and answering Andrei’s questions to the best of his abilities until they get to the bakery. There’s still a good crowd; people coming to get a sweet treat after dinner, and Dougie smiles when the smell of the bakery rolls over him, warm and sweet and familiar.

“Dougie!” someone yells, and it’s echoed through the staff from the counter to the backroom, necks craning to see him.

“Dougie?” a voice calls out in question, and a smile breaks over Dougie’s face. He knows that voice, can feel his cheeks almost ache from how wide he’s grinning to hear it after so long. “Dougie!” Dori shouts, rushing over to pull him into a hug. “I knew you’d come! Oh, you’re looking so good, so handsome,” she says and pulls back to pat his cheek. “I wasn’t sure if you’d make it today, but I’m glad you did.”

“I wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world.”

She chuckles. “You always were a sweet talker, weren’t you? Now what’ll you be having today? I know how much you like the chocolate-filled.”

“I’m still a sucker for the chocolate,” Dougie admits, “but would you mind if we took them to one of the offices in the back? There’s someone I wanted to introduce to you.”

“Oh.” She looks around him and catches sight of Andrei, eyes going wide. “He’s…isn’t he…Dougie,” she sighs.

“I know. I know the rules and everything, but please, make an exception. Please,” he begs, and there must be something in his voice or in his eyes because her lips twist, but she nods.

“Come on back, boys,” she says and walks behind the counter, stopping to grab a box and fill it with a few of the cannoli.

Dougie greets everyone he knows, accepting hugs and handshakes and grinning when they introduce themselves to Andrei without missing a beat, no questions asked.

The office is just barely big enough for a couple chairs and a desk stacked with old invoices and receipts. Dori sets the pastry box down and flips the lid open, gesturing for them to take one as she sits behind the desk. Andrei looks almost overwhelmed by the options, hand wavering between the hazelnut and the chocolate-filled, and Dougie fondly rolls his eyes.

“We can split if you want to try all of them,” he says, and Andrei nods enthusiastically, grabbing the hazelnut and taking a bite. His eyes immediately go wide, and he moans loudly enough that Dougie has to avert his gaze and think about dead puppies for a minute.

“Glad you like them,” Dori smiles, then raises an eyebrow at Dougie. “And not that I’m not happy to see you, kid, and you know I love you like family, but I didn’t know you’d be bringing a guest. You’re making me break my own rules here.”

Shrugging bashfully, Dougie glances at Andrei. They’d already talked about it back home and again before dinner, had agreed to be honest with Dori because Dougie knew they could trust her. But if the wrong people ever found out, this could hurt Andrei much more than him, so he wants a final reassurance, and Andrei delivers, setting his cannoli back down and nodding.

“I know,” Dougie says. “I’m hoping to make a case for an exception though.”

“An exception?”

“Yes.”

She squints at him and leans back in her chair. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“This is Andrei,” Dougie begins, “and I’m sure you know he’s one of my teammates, but I didn’t bring him as a teammate tonight.” She waits patiently from him to continue, eyes sharp as she watches them. “I brought him as my date…because we’re dating.”

There’s a thick silence in the wake of his words, and Dougie swallows nervously, fingers fidgeting uselessly in his lap.

“You’re not fucking with me, right?”

He looks up, shocked, and sputters out a reply. “No. I wouldn’t—This isn’t—I’m serious. I would never—”

Dori lights up and leaps out of her chair, rounding the desk to wrap Dougie up in a tight hug, only barely taller on her feet than he is sitting down. When she lets go, he can see tears in her eyes, and she turns to Andrei, dragging him close. He goes into the embrace easily, arms circling her waist, dwarfing her short frame.

“You’re a looker, aren’t you?” she says when she pulls back. “Very handsome boy.”

“Thank you.”

“And foreign.”

“I’m from Russia.”

Dori hums delightedly. “Oh, it’s so great to meet you. I was always asking Dougie about when he’d find a nice girl. I didn’t realize I should’ve been asking about finding a nice boy!”

 Andrei grins smugly. “Am first guy in Dougie’s life,” he says, and Dori laughs in surprised glee.

“Hey now, that street goes both ways, you know,” Dougie grouses.

“Oh, he’s a good match for you, Dougie. He’s got the confidence to keep up.” She props a hip against the desk and holds the pastry box out to them, smiling knowingly when Dougie takes the half-eaten hazelnut so Andrei can start in on the chocolate-filled. “So how long have you been together?”

“Over four months,” Dougie answers around a mouthful of pastry and cream.

“And how’d you get together?”

“I kiss Dougie at party,” Andrei tells her before Dougie has the chance, smiling brightly. He enjoys telling the story now, jumps at the opportunity, though he always gives friends and family the edited version, leaving out the less than ideal parts: his tears after Dougie left, the terribly awkward conversation with Willy, the weeks of fear and anxiety after they actually got together because Andrei wasn’t sure Dougie would stay. That’s passed now, but sometimes Dougie still feels like he needs to make up for it, needs to ensure that Andrei never worries about him leaving again. “He freak out and run away. Not want mess up team or friendship.”

“Sounds like Dougie.”

Andrei nods in agreement. “He ignore me couple days, so I go talk to him. Tell him why is not bad idea, why could work, and he finally agree. Now, we here, four months after.”

“And is it hard?” she asks curiously. “Being teammates and in a relationship. I know it’s not always easy working with a partner.”

They’ve had this conversation before, many times, as they’ve navigated the waters of a new relationship, trying to figure out what worked best on the ice versus at home, learning what could be talked about on the couch or in bed and what needed to be left in the locker room. It’s something they’re still perfecting, but they’ve gotten better at it and, at least in Dougie’s opinion, come out better because of it.

“I think there’s a lot more good than bad,” Dougie says. “I always kind of worried about being with someone who wouldn’t understand why I liked hockey so much or who would be annoyed with our schedule, being away from home half the time, and I don’t have to worry about that. He loves hockey just as much, if not more, than me, and we travel together, so that’s nice.”

Andrei nods along. “Yeah, is good. Is very good.”

Dori grins, “I’m glad. I always knew Dougie would end up with someone great, and though there was some key information I was clearly missing about the person he would date, I’m happy it’s you. You’re a nice boy, and you’re welcome to come to the shop anytime, just like Dougie is. We’ll call it the boyfriend privilege or something.”

Dougie snorts and reaches out to snatch the other half of the chocolate-filled cannoli from Andrei, batting his hand away when he tries to take it back. “Yeah, let’s just not call it that out loud, eh?”

“What? Too embarrassing?”

Dougie shakes his head reluctantly. “Too damning.”

She looks at him quizzically, puzzling out the words, and her face falls. “You’re keeping it a secret, aren’t you?”

Dougie swallows and shrugs, trying for casual but most likely failing. “We kind of have to if we don’t want to be eaten alive by the media and every homophobic fan and player out there.”

“I’m sure they’re not all that bad.”

“No, not all of them. The team knows, and they’re all chill with it, but I think it’s easier because they know us. We’re their friends and teammates, not some random players.”

Dori frowns, mouth carving deep lines into her cheeks and chin. “That’s a damn shame.”

“It is what it is.”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “Well, I wish it wasn’t. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are, shouldn’t have to keep your relationship behind closed doors. That’s a shitty way to have to live.”

“Worth it though,” Andrei says, reaching out to lay a broad palm across Dougie’s thigh. “Would rather have Dougie and keep secret than not have at all.”

A bittersweet smile spreads across her face. “I still wish things were different, but I’m glad you trust me enough to share this, and I promise I won’t breathe a word about it to anyone.”

“Thank you,” they both say, and Andrei pulls the final cannoli out of the box, taking a bite, then passing it off to Dougie, trading back and forth as Dori asks about Raleigh and things they enjoy doing there, avoiding any mention of hockey and their series against the Bruins.

\----

“Can get cannoli again before we leave?” Andrei asks through a yawn as they’re crawling into bed later that night.

“I’m sure Dori’d love it if we came back,” Dougie responds, tossing an arm over Andrei’s waist and pressing close, chest to back. “Does that mean you liked them?”

“Yes.”

“Better than ice cream?”

Andrei hums, lifting Dougie’s hand to press a kiss to his palm. “Maybe, but is only better because is important for you, and I like share important stuff with you.”

Nuzzling into Andrei’s neck, Dougie huffs out a laugh. “What a softie.”

Andrei cants his hips back in retaliation. “Can be hard if you need me be,” he retorts with what is surely a wicked grin, though Dougie can’t make out his features in the dark room.

“Oh my god,” he complains, biting back a groan that’s half mild annoyance and half arousal. “You said our teammates make bad sex jokes, but that was awful.”

“Was not that bad.”

“No, no, it was. I’m pretty sure that could even beat Faulker or Marty out.”

“Could not,” Andrei protests huffily, making to scoot away, but Dougie reels him back in and presses a kiss to his neck.

“Definitely could,” he breathes out, relishing the way Andrei shivers, “but I’ll accept it from you because I like you so much.”

Andrei tips his head, silently asking for another kiss. “Just like?” he counters.

“Maybe a little bit more than like,” Dougie concedes and strokes a palm up Andrei’s ribs, pinching at a nipple just to hear him gasp.

He grinds back against Dougie, hips swiveling in slow, torturous circles. “Not feel like little bit,” he observes, and Dougie groans.

“Oh my god. Please stop,” he demands, then rolls Andrei over and silences him with a fierce kiss.


End file.
